An Easter Story
by Tsuru-san
Summary: It's Easter morning in Jerusalem, and Raphael stands serenely by Jesus's empty tomb. Asmodeus comes to join him. (AsmodeusRaphael SLASH!) previously titled 'Alleluia'
1. part 1

**Author Notes**: So. I wrote "Alleluia" back in 2005. *wince* And that means it's way overdo for an overhaul so this is a rework of that fic, pardon the title change.

Anyway, this time around I've fleshed the story out some and spread it into three parts. I'd say I like this version much better.

* * *

_"I believe in Jesus Christ [...who] suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died, and was buried. He descended into hell. On the third day he rose again."_ –from the Apostles' Creed

The ceiling of Lucifer's throne room soared high, bolstered by curving, obsidian supports. The whole grand hall was black stone from the walls to the central dais where the Devil's gilded throne sat. Looking like a cross between a subterranean cave and a blasphemous temple, the room awed even the most stoic of Lucifer's minions. However, now the magnificent hall was empty save for Lucifer and four of his seven Archdemons: Beelzebub, Asmodeus, Astaroth, and Leviathan.

And the Son of God standing before Lucifer's throne.

Jesus glanced from the Devil to his cacophony of demons and back again. "Ahem, hello. I am Jesus Christ, the Son of God. Through my Father's plan and my sacrifice, the gates of Heaven have been opened again to humanity. So if you'll permit me...uhm..."

"And why bother with such trivialities?" Astaroth hissed, the first of them to speak. "Just do what you came for. It's not as though we can stop you," the demon added, haughty tone trying to mask his hurt pride.

Jesus ignored Astaroth's taunting and instead turned back to Lucifer. "Morningstar?"

The Lord of Hell fixed the Son of God with a look of pure loathing. "_Go away_. Just take your miserable righteous souls and go the fuck away."

The Son of God came closer to the dais until he was standing right in front of Lucifer. "Morningstar," Jesus said gently, sadly, as he reached out to touch Lucifer's face.

The demon's eyes narrowed, and his face stretched, skin splitting as he hissed at the other being. Lucifer's fangs and jawbone elongated grotesquely and his forked tongue flickered twice before his face snapped back to its previous beautiful—albeit unhappy—countenance.

Christ drew back though he seemed bewildered rather than frightened.

"You won, we lost. You should not expect any welcome here," Asmodeus snapped bitterly.

Jesus sighed. "No civil word from you either, Cherub? I had hoped—"

"Hope. That's your problem right there," the Archdemon of Lust retorted with a soft growl.

Asmodeus insolently met the Lord's brown eyes, but after a few moments, he was forced to look away. As the demon stared holes into the smooth marble floor, he could still feel Christ's eyes on him. It was as if the Son was trying to read his mind. In all likelihood, He probably could. Under that scrutiny, a tight, pained feeling bloomed in Asmodeus's chest and coiled around his heart in what felt entirely too much like shame.

Jesus smiled thoughtfully and ran his fingers through Asmodeus's black hair in what was unmistakably a gesture of friendly affection. The demon was too stunned to pull away, and the Savior leaned close, speaking so that only Asmodeus could hear him. "You are cruel towards him now, but some time many centuries later, you may be inclined to show more gentleness," the Son whispered cryptically. "And if that time comes, his willingness may surprise you in turn."

"Stop it!" Lucifer commanded, shoving Jesus back and moving quickly to stand between the Archdemon and the Savior. "Don't you dare lay hands on him!"

The Son of God shook his head. "No, you misunderstand, I have not harmed him—"

"Get out! GET OUT! Get out before I throw you out!"

"Lucifer, we both know you don't have that power right now," Jesus replied sternly.

The Lord of Hell stalked up to his unwelcome guest, hellfire materializing in his clawed hands. "Your power here is not absolute!" Lucifer jabbed an accusatory finger at Jesus's chest, and purple flames burned a small hole in Christ's shirt but left his skin unmarred. "You've come for the souls of the just, now get them. Don't tarry."

Jesus bowed his head. "As you wish." There was an echoing _boom_ as he disappeared in a flash of light that swept out of the palace and through Hell in an instant, carrying the righteous up to Heaven. Back in the throne room, a smoldering crater was the only thing left to mark the Savior's departure. Lucifer resolved to have the floor repaired as soon as physically possible. In fact he was already considering redoing the whole room altogether just to scour this moment from his mind.

"Beelzebub, go contact the rest of the Dukes," Lucifer said tiredly, collapsing back onto his thrown. "I want to know how many souls he took with him."

"Yes, my Lord." Beelzebub's robe swished softly around his ankles as he walked quickly from the throne room.

Astaroth shook his head, his long scarlet hair shimmering. "I do not like Him," he hissed, glaring at the cracked floor where Jesus had last stood.

"Nor do I," Lucifer replied caustically. "At least that's one thing that we can agree on. Anyway you're free to go, Lord Astaroth. And as soon as you are able, tell Beelzebub how many souls the 6th Circle has lost."

Astaroth gave a curt nod, no bow, and silently exited the chambers.

"Asmodeus," the Devil called, his voice softening as he turned to his friend, "are you alright?"

"F-fine."

"Color me unconvinced," the blonde demon retorted, a hint of his old smirk returning.

Leviathan slithered over to her fellow marquis and drew him into a protective embrace. Asmodeus still seemed so shocked that he didn't even protest the coddling treatment. The shadow master was uncharacteristically subdued, his garnet eyes vacant. "I'll have him lie down, Lord Lucifer," Leviathan assured the Devil. Lucifer nodded, dismissing the pair.

Leviathan wasted no time taking Asmodeus to her guest room in Lucifer's palace. Careful but insistent, she pushed him down onto the turquoise coverlet draped over her bed. Offering no resistance, Asmodeus let her arrange him as she liked, looking up and vaguely noting that the lower ceiling was oddly comforting.

Her hand still entwined with her friend's, Leviathan knelt by the bed and asked, "What did he say to you?"

"I-I...don't remember."

Yellow eyes widened, but the Marquise fought to hide her annoyance. "Don't even try that with me—"

"No, really, I don't know!" Asmodeus protested, finally starting to sound lucid again. "It was something about... It was something about _something_."

Leviathan blinked in surprise. "Truly, you don't know?"

Asmodeus meekly shook his head.

"Oh. Well it was probably nothing of great importance then," Leviathan suggested trying for nonchalance, and the smile she offered actually managed to be reassuring. "Come rest now, brother Asmodeus. You still seem shaken."

"Thank you, I think I will..." the other Archdemon replied as he closed his eyes.

_tbc..._


	2. part 2

**Author Notes**: Any Biblical references here were derived from Matthew's rendition of the Resurrection. Time period set around 33 AD.

* * *

After Jesus Christ had left Hell with the righteous souls of humanity, Asmodeus had lain curled up in bed for what he had been certain would be a very long nap. In reality, he slept only for about six hours. He woke cuddled next to Marquise Leviathan and with the sudden, maddening inclination to go to Christ's tomb on Earth.

When he told Leviathan, she laughed, thinking he was joking. When she realized he was serious, she asked him not to go. Then she ordered him not to; however, it was almost impossible to stop a shadow master from going wherever they damn well pleased.

"Asmodeus," Leviathan said gently, already realizing her argument was lost, "why don't you just stay here?"

"I shall see you, dear heart, when I get back."

When Asmodeus arrived at Jesus's tomb, he was somehow not surprised to find Raphael already waiting there.

.0.0.0.

In retrospect, Asmodeus would think that Matthew, in his gospel, had treated the scene at the tomb all too kindly. Although Asmodeus would never read the Bible, he would hear about Matthew's resurrection story later and laugh.(1) Yes, there had been Mary Magdalene and another Mary.(2) And yes, Raphael, dazzling in his angelic robes, had given his noble pronouncement, and then supposedly Jesus had shown up as the two women went back to town. The way Matthew wrote about it, the whole thing came off as a beautiful moment in the history of Christianity. Matthew hadn't gotten the whole story though.

For example, there had also been Mary #2's fainting spell at the sight of an angel. Being the worried sap that he was, Raphael had immediately quit the tomb and gone to revive the poor woman. In the process, he had somehow managed to catch his wing on Mary #1's bonnet. Rather than meeting the women on their way to town, Jesus had had to come to the gravesite to help untangle Raphael and Mary #1, and, well, it had been altogether downright hilarious. Apparently there was an actual reason why Gabriel was the messenger.(3)

From his perch behind a boulder atop the tomb, Asmodeus had smirked and stifled laughter until the two rejoicing women had left with their Savior. Now, though, his amusement was fading, soured by the reality of what had happened. The Son of God had risen...humanity was redeemed...and Raphael's blissful, serene expression was making the Archdemon want to vomit.

Asmodeus resolved to fix at least the last of those problems.

tbc...

1. Repeatedly and in Raphael's face.  
2. We'll call them Mary #1 and Mary #2, respectively.  
3. It's true. Michael didn't project his voice enough, Uriel was too frigid, and Raphael and the other three Archangels just generally sucked at making announcements. However, on the first Easter, Gabriel was busy with the new souls in Heaven so Raphael helped out on Earth.

* * *

_After the sabbath, as the first day of the week was dawning, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to see the tomb. And suddenly there was a great earthquake; for an angel of the Lord, descending from heaven, came and rolled back the stone and sat on it. His appearance was like lightning, and his clothing white as snow._

_For fear of him, the guards shook and became like dead men. But the angel said to the women, "Do not be afraid; I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not here; for he has been raised, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay. Then go quickly and tell his disciples, 'He has been raised from the dead, and indeed he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him.' This is my message for you."_

_So they left the tomb quickly with fear and great joy, and ran to tell his disciples. Suddenly Jesus met them and said, "Greetings!" And they came to him, took hold of his feet, and worshipped him. Then Jesus said to them, "Do not be afraid; go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me."_

–Matthew 28:1-10


	3. part 3

Asmodeus was like a smear of spilled ink against the fresh spring landscape that had spread out from the epicenter of Christ's tomb. The demon lord was not especially familiar with seasonal rhythms in this part of the world, so he wasn't certain if this lushness was natural or if it was a result of the Resurrection. Either way, everything was so sickeningly alive and hopeful.

And Raphael... The benevolent expression on the angel's face rankled the demon's nerves even more.

Asmodeus had been making plans for Raphael. Perhaps it was high time the demon gave them a try.

.0.0.0.

The smooth breeze whispered in the air, caressing Raphael's fair face and ruffling his downy wings. The sun shown full and golden up above while white wisps of cloud flowed across a sapphire blue sky. It was beautiful, but not as beautiful as what had happened that morning.

Raphael, eyes closed, inhaled the heady yet innocent scent of spring. Flowers waved with the passing wind as the archangel stood happily atop Jesus's unoccupied tomb. He'd seen Him. He'd seen the risen One. Joy and grace moved him almost to tears. Nothing could dampen such glory.

_Almost_ nothing.

A muted string of vulgarities and a sudden chill in the air bade Raphael turn around. "You're standing on the burial place of _Jesus Christ_. The least you could do is show respect," he admonished.

"Ah, yes, the Christ has risen," Asmodeus glared about at nature's spring finery in condescending disgust, "and all his loyal angelic lapdogs are fluttering about bring _love_ and _joy_," he sneered as though such holy acts were obscene and not to be spoken of in polite conversation. For good measure, the Marquis spat upon the sacred ground.

"I'm surprised you're not back in hell licking your wounds with Lucifer and the rest of his minions," Raphael replied coolly. It would take much more than Asmodeus's sullen brooding to upset the angel right now.

Asmodeus smirked. "Oh, be reasonable, Raphael! We both know nothing has _really_ changed. The majority of humans will always be witless vermin too wrapped up in themselves and their delusional little worlds. Most of them don't _want_ to be saved."

Raphael shook his head exasperatedly. "You know nothing of humanity and its strengths."

"Nothing?" the demonic let out a condescending bark of laughter. "Those worthless wretches _nailed_ the Son of _God_ to a tree!"

The archangel sighed. "That's how it was written. Don't tell me you came here hoping to discuss philosophy?" he added with more than a hint of sarcasm.

Asmodeus's amusement subsided to a few chuckles. "Oh, my naïve little angel, as tempting as it would be to engage in such _passionate_ debating, that's not why I'm here."

Tendrils of darkness slunk through the vibrant green grass, dulling and wilting the life in it. The shadows undulated against the hem of the archangel's robe, and he had to resist the urge to recoil in disgust. A shower of sparks from the angel's hand sent the shadows slinking back. However, that was not enough to dispel Raphael's growing sense of unease, and was it just coincidental that a cloud slid through the sky overhead and hid the sun? The breeze picked up, cold without the sunlight, as Asmodeus drew closer, and whatever his intentions were, Raphael doubted they were anything good.

Raphael looked up at the taller being, green eyes stony calm. "I do not fear you."

The shadows slithered closer again, and Asmodeus smiled, showing his fangs. "Then you are unwise to underestimate the forces of darkness."

"Good is clearly the better choice." Raphael's voice came out in a whisper, but his words were full of conviction. He loathed being this near Asmodeus even as a traitorous part of him longed for it, missing the angel Asmodeus had once been.

"And what of the poor wretches still down Below, hmm?"

Raphael's lips pursed together unhappily, but even to Asmodeus, he would try to give an honest answer. "While I grieve for the souls cast into the Pit and still languishing there, I trust that our Father's plan is just. As for the Fallen," the angel added sternly, "you made your choice."

Asmodeus's laugh was a cruel, oily thing. "You're so cold, Raphael," he purred, reaching out toward the angel.

The healer's eyes narrowed warily as he drew back. "Do not play your games with me."

"I'm not going to hurt you, Raphael."

For a second, the sincerity on that pale face reminded Raphael of his lost friend, and the healer couldn't quite shy away as the demon touched his hair. To his credit though, Raphael regained himself quickly and swatted the demon's hand aside.

"Oh Raphael, don't be so sulky." And before Raphael had a chance to make a retort, Asmodeus had taken advantage of their proximity to steal a kiss.

To his surprise, it actually wasn't that awful. Raphael had expected the kiss to be rough and demanding, but instead Asmodeus's lips were soft as his hand gently cupped the angel's face. Slowly their lips separated before pressing together again.

It wasn't Lust that made the angel's knees weak though. More like a precursor perhaps? The feel of lips and hands on him sent an odd tingling through Raphael's body, a closeness which actually felt very nice. (Which reminded him of a dark-haired angel he'd once known...)

At least, it felt nice up until the point when Raphael reached out to steady himself against the side of the tomb and found he couldn't lift his hand.

"What—?"

Where his gloved palm pressed against the cool shadowed stone, tendrils of darkness had wrapped around his hand and wrist. Trying to free his left and only ended with the right being stuck as well and shadows creeping up both the angel's forearms.

Raphael was dimly aware that Asmodeus had stepped aside to let the little drama play out, and despite the sinking sensation in his stomach, Raphael focused all his energy on a burst of light directed at the makeshift ropes. To his horror, the shadows strained, fraying, but still held. "What trickery is this?!"

"Do you like them?" the demon grinned, and there was nothing even remotely pleasant about him now. "I modeled the binding spell after your own."

"Still sore that I so handily defeated you back in Media?" Raphael snapped, stalling so that he could gather his energy and try to break the ropes again.

With a flick of the wrist, Asmodeus shoved the angel hard against the tomb wall. More shadows leapt up, arcing over Raphael's chest and pulling tight. "You're hardly in a position to be testing my limited patience, don't you think?"

Raphael winced at the uneven stone digging into his back. "How can you even use this magic right now? Christ has— I thought your powers were too weak."

"Shadows are everywhere, even in Heaven. Since they're not an evil force but rather a neutral one, I can use them." Asmodeus stroked casually at the angel's hips, fingers searching for a way to undo the white robes. "My intent makes it demonic, but the spell itself is not."

Raphael twisted in the demon's grip, trying to throw his hands off, but a sudden press of claws stilled the angel's panicked squirming. Trying to catch his breath, Raphael glared up at Asmodeus's smirking face. "You-you said you wouldn't hurt me..."

"Foolish angel," Asmodeus murmured, leaning closer and flicking his forked tongue against the healer's ear. "I lied."

"Stop—!"

The demon moved to steal another kiss when a soft voice called out, "Asmodeus."

The Archdemon turned his head to the side, glancing behind him, and Raphael was just able to peek over Asmodeus's shoulder as a young man swiftly approached them. He would have been indistinguishable from any other human except for the nail marks in his hands and feet and the uneven cuts along his forehead. Raphael could feel warm breath brush his skin as the demon swore, but he did not move away from the captured angel.

.0.0.0.

The Christ brat—trust him to interfere! Asmodeus unsheathed his claws, but did not attack yet even though Jesus was getting closer. Would it be worth the trouble to fight...? Almost certainly not.

"Release him," Jesus said fiercely, coming to a furious halt a few meters away from the tomb.

_"You are cruel towards him now, but—"_ Asmodeus dropped Raphael roughly and stumbled away from the healer, the binding dissolving. His claws retracted as he half-crouched, half-fell to his knees. Suddenly his head was pounding, and the demon shook it violently, trying to oust the strange voice saying words he didn't understand.

Though narrowed eyes, Asmodeus watched Raphael flutter back to stand behind his Lord.

"Go back to the pits where you came from," Raphael ordered.

Though the pounding in his head subsided, Asmodeus knew he had lost, but he forced a smirk, masking his frustration as he glided elegantly to his feet. "Next time then?" he taunted. The open relief on Raphael's face infuriated the demon, but he consoled himself that there _would_ be a next time—and when that time came, the shadow master would make sure that no third parties could interfere.

"Oh, yes, and one other thing." Asmodeus dissolved into a puddle of inky shadows before reappearing right in front of Raphael. "I _did_ come here to congratulate your beloved savior."

Jesus took a few steps closer, brown eyes stern and lips pursed in a thin, unhappy line. "Marquis Asmodeus..." he warned.

The demon grinned, his forked tongue flicking out to taste the air. "Alleluia," he sneered at Raphael although his red eyes glanced cautiously to where Jesus stood. "Goodbye, angel."

-fin-


End file.
